Dying Time

Tick tock, tick tock, i'm 
running out of time, 
my burning heart has 
turned to white and 
nothing else, but lime. 
Could this be it? Could 
this be the very end, 
you've turned me 
down a hundred 
times and i've become 
your friend. While i 
lay here upon my bed 
i think of eyes that 
gleam and when i 
tear for i have been 
misled by lights and 
beams, your heart is 
pure like wool as 
white that's sin is 
washed away, i'll let 
you go , for you said 
so as night has turned 
to day.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace